


Tell It To the Marines

by campy



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campy/pseuds/campy
Summary: An Essential Ron-ness story. A chance meeting of former Middleton High cheerleaders leads to danger and trouble on a beach.This is the special M-rated Director's Cut of the story, not the milder version posted elsewhere.
Kudos: 1





	Tell It To the Marines

**Author's Note:**

> Background: It's four years after Graduation. Kim's cheer squad friend Jessica (see my avatar) and her "So the Drama" prom date, Steve Farley the baseball captain, are now married and embarking on careers in the US armed forces. Jessica is a Marine via a Reserve Officers' Training Corps (ROTC) program while Steve trained at the US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, CO.
> 
> This little oneshot is adapted from a larger story about their honeymoon aboard a cruise ship. It's got some of the more familiar KP characters in it too.

_Disney's  
Kim Possible _

in

**Tell It To the Marines**

(An _Essential Ron-ness_ Story)

by  
_campy_

_  
_

_A private island in the Caribbean, present day_

Jessica Sundstrum, a fit, freckle-faced, leggy blonde beauty of 22, sauntered back toward the cabana to rejoin her new hubby, her beach bag slung over one shoulder, savoring the brilliant Caribbean sunshine, her limoncello gelato and the male attention her lissome, nude body was attracting.

She shot her haughtiest 'Dream On' look at admirers young and old, then realized one hunk looked familiar. That robust tan, the well-developed upper body and shamefully neglected legs, the gooped-up hair. _Could_ _it_ _be? Yes! It_ _is!_

"Junior!" she called as she altered course slightly. His eyes widened. "Hi, Junior," she said as she reached his lounge chair. "Remember me?"

The young billionaire gazed quizzically up at the svelte blonde. "Why hello there, beautiful lady," he said, rising from his seat and running a hand over his razor-sculpted 'do. "I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I do not recall having met you before. Have you perhaps admired my dance moves at some ultra-exclusive Santorini hotspot?"

"No, just the high school gym. I'm one of Bonnie Rockwaller's old pals."

The dimwitted heir still appeared perplexed.

"I was on her cheer squad."

"Oh! I do recall a shapely blonde cutie who would shimmy enticingly in the background while my Bonnie shook her marvelous booty! She was called … wait, do not tell me … I think I have it … You are … Tara?"

"No, I'm Jessica," she replied. "The other blonde," she added with a sardonic smirk.

"Oh," he said. "You, I do not remember."

"Yeah, well, I did always kinda fade into the background back then, what with all the beautiful girls we had," she said with a laugh.

"Well, I am certain I would have noticed you had you dressed this way in those days. Oh, look," he said, pointing to the main clubhouse. "My Bon Bon is returning from her aura cleansing."

Jess turned to see her former cheer squad mate, who, having realized a beautiful naked woman was chatting with her Junior, was practically sprinting toward them.

Junior began to wave to her. "Bonnie my beloved!" he called out, "Look who is here! It is one of your bosomy buddies from that depressing town the name of which I have mercifully forgotten!"

Bonnie arrived, slightly winded, and shifted her jewel-encrusted sunglasses—which aside from some obviously expensive rings, bracelets and necklaces was all she had on—down the bridge of her nose to look the blonde up and down. "My, my, my, if it isn't Jessica Sundstrum. I almost didn't recognize you, what with all the weight you've packed on. Last I heard, you were in military school. How's that working out for you?"

 _Get your money back on that aura cleansing, B,_ Jess thought. "It was ROTC, Bonnie, and I'm doing just super. I just earned my commission in the Marine Corps, and I'm married to Steve Farley now." She held out her left hand to show Bonnie her gold wedding band and diamond (which she secretly called "Lou"); her classmate managed a tepid 'ooh.' "I sent you a wedding invite, but you never RSVPed."

"Oh, you probably addressed it to the wrong private island or something."

 _Same_ _old_ _Bonnie,_ Jess thought. _Nothing's_ _ever_ _her_ _fault._ "Probably. Well, you sure are looking fantastic these days."

"I know."

"I think you've lost a couple pounds," Jess continued. "I remember you used to stuff yourself to hold on to that last little bit of belly flab, 'cause every time you lost that you'd lose some _oomph_ in the cheer top too. But now your tummy's tight as mine, and the girls look fuller than ev— oh! You’ve had a little work done, haven't you? _Niiii_ ce! What'd they set you back?"

"Mere pocket cha–" Junior began before Bonnie cut him off. Almost literally.

"I most certainly did not have 'work done'!" the brunette insisted furiously, before regaining her aplomb. "I've just been dining on expertly prepared spa cuisine these last four years while you … well, it looks like you're still in the Cow 'n' Chow Chowhound Club."

Jess threw back her head and laughed. "Oh Bonnie, you're _still_ trying to make me insecure about my looks like you did in high school, hoping I'll meekly follow you around? Give it _up_ already! I am so done with that. I'll have you know that all four years at college I was considered one of the hottest girls on campus."

"Hottest girl at military school? Is that like being the skinniest kid at fat camp?"

"It was a regular college with an ROTC program, Bonnie!" Jess snapped. _She got to me again. How does she do it?_ "Not that that really makes any difference, 'cause let me tell you there were quite a few good-looking girls at the Air Force Academy with Steve. But then, you don't know a whole lot about college, do you?"

"Junior and I don't need college!" the brunette snapped back. "We could buy a college with what the dues to this club cost!"

"Well, enjoy your boyfriend's money, Bonnie, just like I'm enjoying the looks I'm getting from every guy on this beach. Including yours!"

Bonnie glared at Junior; he felt a pucker in his privates.

"So, somewhat attractive friend of my stunningly beautiful Bonnie," he interjected, desperate to change the subject, "did you arrive on one of the yachts in the marina? Ours is that big blue one there."

Jess turned to look at the craft. It was a sleek, futuristic motor yacht well over 100 meters long, with a black helicopter perched on the aft deck. "The _Evil_ _Snicker_? Interesting name."

"It was my Papi's choice. But still I am puzzled. I did not know any of Bonnie's friends were billionaires."

"Oh, I'm no billionaire," Jess said with a laugh. "Just a penniless butterbar. And I didn't come by yacht. We're here from a cruise ship. My new hubby and I are on our honeymoon."

"Then how did you obtain admission to the Society of Obscenely Wealthy Sybarites?"

"We're friends of Simone's sister. You remember Yvette, from the swimsuit boutique in Upperton, don't you Bonnie?"

"Simone? Who is this Simone?" Junior asked.

"Simone Garnier? The club manager?"

"Oh," he said. "I do not bother to learn the names of the servants."

"I think they prefer the term 'staff,' Junior," Jess observed.

"Whatever."

"A cruise ship?" Bonnie asked. "That wouldn't be the _Sea_ _Dream,_ would it?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Oh!" Junior said, "that ship is the reason Bonnie and I came here today."

"I don't understand."

"Well, someone told me that the _Sea_ _Dream_ has the funkiest disco on the high seas, so of course I wished to show off my fresh dance moves there. But the ship has only one suite luxurious enough for my Bonnie, and they refused to let me book it for this week, saying it was reserved for some ordinary couple. So, in keeping with villain tradition, I vowed a spectacular act of disproportionate revenge. I fitted our yacht with all the latest evil goodies from the HenchCo web site, plus a cute little laser-firing drone which I stole from Global Justice. My plan is to attack and sink the ship this evening."

"You're going to sink the _Sea_ _Dream_? You'll kill thousands!"

"Oh, I do not intend to harm anyone," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I will order them to stop and put everyone into those little lifeboat thingies they carry for such purposes. Then I will sink it."

Jess turned to Bonnie. "And you're okay with this?"

"Sure, why not?" Bonnie said, wrapping her arms around her boy toy's beefy neck. "Nobody disses my sweetie and gets away with it."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Junior."

"And you plan to stop me, how?"

Jess pulled her smartphone out of her beach bag. "Kim Possible was at my wedding." She began opening menus. "I've still got her in my contacts."

Junior gasped. "Noooooo. I cannot allow you to warn Kim Possible of my evil and treachery! EVIL! TREACHERY! STOP HER!"

Two black-suited bodyguards dashed out of Bonnie and Junior's cabana. The brown-haired one called Evil wrapped his arms around Jess's waist, lifting her off the ground. Surprised, she dropped her phone, but her unarmed combat training quickly kicked in and she snapped her head back, mashing the goon's nose. Howling in pain, he released her, and she wheeled and kicked him hard between the legs. He fell to the sand writhing in agony.

"STEVE!" she shouted as she looked around for her phone. She didn't find it, but she did spot Treachery racing toward her. Dodging his wild attempt at a roundhouse, she grabbed his arm and, dropping to the sand, used his momentum to throw him down. But the big man was surprisingly agile; he rolled, popped back to his feet and advanced on the young Marine like a zombie bent on mayhem.

"Treachery! Behind you!" Junior squealed, and the big bald man turned just in time for a coconut hurled by Steve to slam into his forehead with a hollow 'thunk.' Down he went, face first.

"Yer out!" Steve said, joining his bride. "You okay, babe?"

She nodded and gave him a quick kiss. "Nice peg, shortstop."

Shoulder to shoulder, the two young officers began to advance on Junior and Bonnie. "Okay, Disco Boy, time to face the music," Jess quipped.

The boyish villain dropped to his knees. "Please do not hurt me!" he wailed.

"Stop right there, losers!" Bonnie commanded, pointing a small device (don’t ask where she’d kept it) at Jess and Steve. "C'mon sweetie, let's get back to the yacht."

Steve moved to interpose his body between Bonnie and his bride. "Careful, honey, she's armed."

Bonnie and Junior continued to move backwards toward the water's edge where a jet ski waited. "Oh, this isn't a weapon … well, not exactly," the brunette said as her manicured fingers danced over the device's touch screen. "It's the remote control for Junior's drone. _That's_ the weapon."

The two lieutenants watched a small orb spring up from _Evil_ _Snicker_ 's deck, rapidly fly towards them and hover a few yards away, a very menacing laser eyeball aimed directly at them. They looked around for some cover, but found none.

"You don't want to do this, Bonnie," Steve said.

"Oh, do I ever, Farley," she replied. "I've wanted this for years."

"But why, Bonnie?" Jess asked, coming alongside her man. "We used to be friends."

"Friends? HA! That's rich coming from you, Sundstrum, after what you did to me."

"What are you talking about, Bonnie?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Freckles, it doesn't suit you. I was set to rule Middleton High's Food Chain senior year, with you and Tara as my most loyal followers. Then baseball boy here comes along and starts telling you how gorgeous you are and you get all big-heady and stop hanging with my crowd. Very ungrateful, I thought, after everything I did for you."

"Was she always this nutso?" Steve muttered _sotto voce_.

"Of course, you were no great loss, I brought in some sophomore from the JV squad and never missed you. But then—and I'll never understand how you managed this—you two somehow convince Tara to fall for his scrawny chess nerd buddy. And without Tara in my posse, my whole power base crumbled. You ruined my life!"

"Okay, reality check time, Bonnie," Steve said. "Your life was hardly 'ruined'. You somehow got yourself elected Homecoming Queen, even though I don't know anyone who voted for you."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me of that humiliation, Farley. Lowering myself to flirt with that computer geek so he'd steal it for me —"

"I knew it! I _knew_ Jess really won it! Why, you conniving little —"

"C'mon honey," Jess said placatingly, "I'm sure Kim's the one who actually won. I was honored just to be nominated."

"No way babe, I'm sure it was you. I got you the baseball team vote, and Kyle Monson brought in another bloc of jocks for you, and Megan Hadley canvassed the girl athletes, and then there was the chess club … No, it had to be you."

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Okay, this little jaunt down memory lane has been, like, so fun, but Junior and I have places to go and cruise ships to sink, so it's time for us to say _ciao_."

"Bon Bon my sweet," Junior fretted, "Can we not simply confine these old school chums of yours aboard the yacht for the evening? Papi will be very upset if we get booted from another billionaires' club because you lasered some peasants into tiny little burnt crisps."

"Sorry sweetie, but these two have to pay for turning my Tara against me. You see, Sundstrum, that girl was more than just a useful tool to me. Deep down inside I really liked the sweet, innocent little thing. And she actually liked me back." A tiny tear escaped one teal eye and flowed down a tanned cheekbone.

"You're right Bonnie," Jess said earnestly, "T did like you. She always believed you were a good person at heart—"

"I was … I _am!_ " Bonnie protested. "I had good reasons! The Food Chain—"

"—never worked for Tara, B. She just wanted to pick out her own BF—"

"Husband now," Steve corrected.

"Shhh, working here, honey," Jess whispered. "But she'd forgive you even now if you apologized, Bonnie."

"You think?" Bonnie asked hopefully. She lowered the device in her hand slightly, and the orb's laser eyeball dimmed.

"I know," Jess insisted. "As long as you accepted Kevin—who by the way you'd like if you gave him a chance. He's good for T, and he's most def no scrawny little nerd anymore. He's been pumping iron for five years now and he's quite the hunk."

"Oh come on," Bonnie scoffed.

"He is!" Jess asserted, now confident she and her hubby would live another day. "He's every bit as ripped as Junior is." Bonnie's beau narrowed his eyes at this. "— And for the cherry on top, Kevin's pecs are genuine US Prime beefcake, not implants!"

Jess clapped both hands over her open mouth as she watched Bonnie raise the remote again, her teal eyes flashing angrily. _OMG Jessica!_ _WHY in_ _the_ _EVERLOVING name_ _of_ _LtGen Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller_ _would you say something SO mindbogglingly STUPID?!_

Junior gasped and crossed his arms over the faint surgical scars on his bronzed chest. "Incinerate them, Bonnie my beauty!"

"You got it, sweetie. Goodbye, losers. It's been real, and it's been nice, but it hasn't been real nice. I only wish Tara and her nerd were standing beside you right now so I could could blast them too. But I suppose I can look them up after we sink the ship.” With that, she jabbed her index finger at the remote. Just before the laser could fire, however, the drone exploded in an orange fireball, and debris rained onto the white sands.

A streak of purple flew right through the area where the orb had been hovering moments earlier.

"That's Kim's Sloth!" Jess announced, pointing.

"NOOOO!" Bonnie wailed. "This is so UNFAIR!"

The flying car slowed, then swung around and flew towards the moored yacht _._ "Ahoy _Evil_ _Snicker_ , you have five seconds to abandon ship," Kim Possible's amplified voice commanded.

Henchmen™ quickly poured out of hatches and portholes and jumped into the sea. When they were all safely away, the Sloth fired a missile which pierced the hull and exploded, lifting the yacht half out of the harbor and snapping its keel in two. _Evil_ _Snicker_ settled into the blue Caribbean waters with a defeated gurgle.

"How am I ever going to explain this to Papi?" Junior moaned.

The Sloth flew over and settled on the beach and Kim Possible and her partner Ron Stoppable climbed out, as polo-shirted SOWS security staffers arrived to take control of Junior, Bonnie and the Henchmen™.

Jess and Steve approached their former classmates. "Hey guys," Jess said. "How did you get here so fast? They stopped me before I could even call you."

"Hi Jess, Steve. I sure didn't expect to see you two again so soon after the wedding. We were patrolling the area scanning for the drone Junior stole, but it's so stealthy Wade couldn't detect it until the systems went active. Luckily we were right nearby. Looked like you guys were in a bit of a pickle."

"That we were, Kim. Bonnie was about to fry us. Thanks for the save."

"No big," Kim replied.

“KP, she’s n– n– not wearing any clothes,” Ron whispered, brown eyes wide as the Sloth’s tires.

“Oh c’mon, Ron,” Jess said, “you’re not going to tell me you haven’t seen bare breasts at least as good as mine before?”

“ _… eep ..._ ”

“You’re nice to say so, Jess,” Kim said, nodding in the direction of their former squad mate. “But for sure he’s never seen a set like Bonnie’s before.”

“ _… urp ..._ ”

Jess turned to look at the scowling, shackled (but stacked!) villainess. “Yeah, they’re spectacular. But if you ask me her real pair actually suited her better.”

“Wrong you’re not, Jess. Ron, why don’t you turn around and watch our six, make sure there are no surprises coming.”

“Gotcha, Kimbo.” He turned around. Sure, there were still naked women in his field of vision. But at least he hadn’t been at Camp Wannaweep with them. 

Soon a landing craft arrived on the beach and disgorged a platoon of Global Justice agents led by Dr. Betty Director herself. The jumpsuited agents took custody of the detainees.

"You think you're all that, Kim Possible," the shackled brunette ranted as she was frogmarched onto the GJ craft. _"But you're not!"_

"Tell it to the Marines, Bon Bon," Ron Stoppable called back.

"Good work, Kim, Ron," Betty Director said.

"Actually, Dr. Director," Kim said, "it was these two vacationing US military officers here who really defused this sitch. You ought to contact their superiors and recommend commendations for them."

"I'll certainly do that," the GJ chief replied, heading back to the landing craft.

Jess and Steve looked at each other. "Ma'am," Steve said, "do you need our names and service numbers?"

"Not necessary, Lieutenant Farley," Betty said, a twinkle in her lone brown eye. "We're Global Justice. We already know who you are."

"Nice job talking Bon Bon down," Steve said as he walked his bride back to their cabana. "Up 'til that last part."

Jessica blushed. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I babble a bit. Still love me?"

"Like I said in the chapel, Jess: _as long as we both shall live._ Just, if you could not tick off any more supervillains, that'd be good."

"I'll do my best," she vowed.

They walked along the beach some more.

"But I caught a few of your fighting moves back there," Steve said. "I was impressed."

"How impressed?" Jess asked.

"Let me get you back to that cabana and I'll show you how impressed. Really, you were great."

"Score one for the Marines," Jess said. "First to Fight once again. Glad you were there to have my back, though."

"Me too. I feel compelled to point out, though, that in the end it was air superiority that won the day for our side."

"Ouch. Okay, point for the flyboy."

"Thanks, babe." He slipped an arm around his bride's waist and they continued down the beach. "So, you noticed the G-man's pecs?"

"Notice them? Of course I noticed them! How could I miss them? I should've sent them each their own wedding invites, as pumped up as those things were! Who would've thought it? I mean, a wedding party featuring the some of the studliest O-1s in the Marines, Navy and Air Force _and_ the NFL draft's top quarterback prospect, and the buffest of them all turns out to be the Ivy League premed straight outta four years in Cow Hampshire? What're the odds? Seriously, what _are_ the AAAH–"

Steve pulled her into the cabana and the babbling was heard no more.

_fin_


End file.
